


Cosmos Dusts

by ayesire



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2019-11-15 14:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18075338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayesire/pseuds/ayesire
Summary: Huang Renjun isn't a morning person, Na Jaemin makes breakfast and Lee Jeno currently is working hard to complete his master degree.





	1. Chapter 1

The kitchen has been bustling since early morning. A quiet whistling sound is resonating in that small house. The first fragrance to dance midair is a strong smell of coffee. The old radio on small table corner in the living room is airing some soft tones, filling in the gap of presence.

 

Not too long, the smell of coffee disappears.

 

The first door opens after, a young man with thick glasses on his nose bridge, eyes still closed, walks out. He plops on the sofa and massages his temples in circular motion.

 

Now the smell of coffee and milk waltz along the crème white walls and all the pictures and papers stuck on them.

 

“Good morning,” a cup of café au lait is placed on top of the short table, next to thick books scattered on it.

 

“Mornin’,” it takes the young man’s best to return the greeting. He wonders how the other could manage coming home from a photo shoot at two in the morning, wake up at six of the same day, cook breakfast and make their favourite drinks, all with a wide smile and a polka dots apron tied on his waist.

 

The answer, fortunately comes right after.

 

The tune in the radio fades out, then a man with a soft voice narrates a text. “Café Morning, a time to appreciate the gift that are the sun rising, the fresh air to breath, and this short life to live. Thank you for your hard work yesterday, thank you for not giving up. Dear listeners, please grab your cup and lay your back to relax. This is Jungwoo, today too let’s do our best.”

 

The stove makes a small sound when the fire was put out. Breakfast is ready, and there’s only one thing missing. The apron is now untied and folded neatly on the counter top. Again the door opens, this time without closing.

 

“…the boy stopped in his track. He turned back and he was all alone. Slowly he recited the name. Slow, then louder. Louder. And louder. Like a little bird fell in the pond, he gasped for the air. More and more he called out for his own name. The world inhaled his breath and exhaled all his sorrow. Tears broke. In the wood, the boy was alone. He was all on his own now. Grandmother was not going to call his name ever again."

 

The clock in the wall shows it has been twenty five minutes, exactly twenty five minutes. One third of the breakfast is already done during the recitation on the radio. Dishes are also now squeaking clean.

 

Rustling sound is heard from the other room. Countless of soft inaudible whispers and 'five more minute's flows out in tandem. And only after the five minute is due, another young man in checkered olive pajama set enters the living room.

 

This young man doesn't function before his cup of strong jasmine tea. After he finished half of it he finally realize that he's not laying his head on the sofa but on a broad shoulder. "Good morning Jeno," he said.

 

"Good morning," the owner of the said shoulder ruffles the messy hair that tickles his neck.

 

"...winter came again. Quiet winter that brought cold, the winter that silent voices. I wished to live as chickadee," the radio announcer pauses, then the soft tune comes again, "and that was chapter six of Spring Song, a debut work by writer Huang Renjun. Dear listeners, this book, how to explain it, it is just very raw, the writer clearly poured out his emotions that readers could just feel it. I totally recommend this book, and also other titles by this writer. If you haven't read it, please check it out. And that's it for today's Café Morning, thank you for tuning in, I'll see you tomorrow."

 

The soft voiced announcer then played another soft music to end the program.

 

Jeno brings a plate of breakfast and he puts it on the short table.

 

"Jaemin, why are you listening to my work, again?"


	2. Chapter 2

When Jeno finds the other guy, he is on the floor, sprawled between piles of photos yet to be organized. It is a rare morning where Renjun goes out to hang with his editor and he himself has just finished his ER shift. Jeno was thinking about asking Jaemin out to the newly opened cafe near the park, but there he is, busy checking out the print result.

 

Jeno recognizes some of the pictures are from their last holiday, a three day road trip and camping. They stayed up all night on the second day to stargazing.

 

That, and to let Jaemin wander around the wood and snapped a lot of pictures of the milky way.

 

Jeno was holding two s'more sticks, campfire sparks decorated the cold night, Renjun was a bundle of blanket, head laid on his shoulder as he watched the fireflies twirling in the air. The did not do much, but it was still one of their best trip together.

 

That scene is now eternalized in that one sheet paper in monochrome.

 

For a person who boasts around being the most technology-aware in the house, Jeno wonders how Jaemin could bear shooting only in analog cameras and still printing out pictures in the old school way. Jaemin doesn't own any book, all the shelves are filled to the brink with Renjun's and his books, but he has a lot of albums of his selected works.

 

"Oh, is that a new album?"

 

Jaemin has about ten of the exact same photo album, this is another one to add to the count. They are all of olive leather cover with two golden stripes on upper side. The oldest should be about ten years old, filled with photos from the legendary first two rolls of film Jaemin reminds everyone, every time. 

 

This new one is filled almost to the middle section. Sliding another photo, Jaemin replies proudly, "Yes. You want to see?"

 

He takes the album onto his lap, closes the cover and read the embossed golden Chinese letters on it. Both of them know even each stroke so well, they learned how to master writing those three letters perfectly.

 

All the pictures tell fragments of this very person. From the tips of his slender fingers barely peeking through an oversized sweater Jeno remembers is Jaemin's, the narrow shoulders embraced by the funny and loud editor, the slouched back on the table during a rare nap, nose tip covered in milk foam, to the long shadow on a vast field of grass, and that side profile with the sun light soft on his figure, casting shades to the calm expression.

 

Of all the hundreds of pictures arrived in the mailbox this morning, it is just so Jaemin to prioritize compiling this eleventh edition of his personal portfolio. Not that he shows these ones around.

 

Oh, Jaemin wishes he could but Renjun just would not let him.

 

He then notices there is another pile already sorted aside when he puts down the album.

 

When the other notices where his gaze falls, he hears shuffling sound and something is pulled out from the scattered brown packaging papers. It is another album with leather cover in phthalo blue. There are two silver stripes on the upper side.

 

His glasses are slipping of his nose bridge as Jeno bends to hold his laughter.

 

Jaemin also has, now two, albums with three Korean letters embossed in silver.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that feeling when you wrote a scene on a whim because the image just won't leave your head, and in process scrapped the already written chapter...  
> sorry for the delay.


	3. Chapter 3

“And if you should go back to your nowhere, leaving me with a memory…”

 

The kettle on stove top makes a long whistling sound. The fire is soon put out, leaving a soft whistle echo in the kitchen.

 

“…I’ll always wait for your return out of nowhere, hoping you’ll bring your love to me.”

 

Both the soft melodies from the old radio and classic smell of coffee and tea waft around the small house. The mess that is pile of ruined books off of their bindings, and random papers, has been next to the old mustard sofa, on the small table, for the whole week.

 

Stirring the pot on the stove, Jaemin recalls the phone call Taeyong dropped him last night. Renjun is a little far behind his schedule.

 

It is rare for Renjun’s agent to contact him when it comes to the other’s schedule. It has always been Jeno’s job, but Jeno has been away in the hospital for a week straight. Renjun has also been locking himself up in his writing room, a sacred place no one could enter when Renjun is inside without his permission, unless one would like to spend the day in the hospital.

 

Jaemin is not even exaggerating.

 

Leaving the two warm cups on the dining table Jaemin enters the den of that sleeping lion.

 

The three of them share the biggest bedroom in the house. They cramped that huge bed to one side to let the bookshelf fills the other side of the room. And on that bed is a small bundle of blanket and a big stuffed moomin doll.

 

He sits next to Renjun, who then shifts and moves to hug him on the waist. Jaemin smiles at the gesture but he sighs quietly. Renjun needs half an hour to wake up, but this only means he isn't even sleeping. Even after he left writing room earlier at five.

 

He rubs the bundle, right on Renjun's back. “Come on, let’s eat breakfast first then rest,” his fingers find their way to smooth the hair sticking out.

 

The announcer Jungwoo was reading some messages on the radio when Renjun sits on his chair and is handed his jasmine tea. His soft voice twirls out of the speakers around the room.

 

When he doesn’t have morning shoots Jaemin loves to make breakfast for them and he takes the responsibility seriously. He remembers well how Jeno prefers his egg softly boiled, no salt but lots of pepper, and his toasts a little burnt with extra butter. He remembers Renjun loves onion soup with dry baguette for breakfast.

 

The two of them has known each other since forever and living together since college. At first it was a small flat not too far from the university, then Jeno came around their final year and they moved to this small house ever since.

 

“Dear listener, thank you for tuning in with our Café Morning today. Please have a warm meal and remember to always treat yourself kindly. Even small buds bloom beautifully on their day, I sincerely hope our dear listeners believe in themselves. Here is to our last song, may this song bring you a new hope today.”

 

The plates have been emptied, Jaemin is still finishing his warm soup. The radio was playing a Frank Sinatra piece. Renjun doesn’t say anything during meal times, he eats in silence. He always eats in silence.

 

Jaemin remembers how he said that it is how one should focus on enjoying the meal properly. Jaemin and Jeno honestly could not relate. They are both chatters and they did not eat in silence. 

 

But Renjun always give them that look every time they were about to open their mouth, and they were tamed that way.

 

"Jaemin, where is Jeno?"

 

Seven days barely out of the writing room and lacking sleep, it is no wonder Renjun did not notice. "He's still in the hospital. He said he's definitely coming home today though," he replies.

 

“I see.”

 

The look in his eyes tells that he’s now thinking about how to tell Taeyong that he needs some extension and writing has not been so well. Jaemin knows. He just knows.

 

“I have a shoot today. Lunch and dinner are already in the fridge, don’t forget to warm them up first okay?” Jaemin watches every reaction, then he sighs in defeat, “Also, I’ll let Taeyong know.”

 

The way Renjun smiles then lit everything up, “Thank you,” he says.

 

Jaemin knows he’s spoiling the other. Jeno would surely scold him when he finds out, but he will save his worries for later.


	4. Chapter 4

Today too Jungwoo comes to the studio early in the morning. He arrives at four, the pre on air starts forty five minutes later, then he goes for two hours, then he meets the producers and script writers for the weekend pre-recorded episodes. This routine goes five times a week. Before long, now he has been doing it for more than three years already.

 

Jungwoo never thought he would be doing something in the entertainment world, if radio counts as one. Back in junior high school he was a member of the literature club. In high school he was with the school library. Even while studying English literature he worked part time at the chicken restaurant around his university. That part time work was what changed the direction of his life.

 

The producer of the station, who is now his producer, ordered from his shop almost daily for dinner. And Jungwoo was just very unlucky that he would be the one to answer his calls. The producer told him he has a nice voice, suited for broadcasting, and after two years of scouting and pesters, finally he landed his first recording.

 

Jungwoo never think of himself as sort of celebrity, their radio doesn’t do the live video thing anyway and his corner is early in the morning, not a time most people would be up to listening some radio program. But he noticed that every time he goes for grocery or buying dinner, he often unexpectedly gets discounts or extras from the shopkeepers.

 

Only after a while, thanks to his nature slow wit, that he noticed that those aunts and uncles are his loyal listeners. And was told that it somehow started when one of them happened to recognized him through his voice. It was the aunt who sells the best beef noodle at the alleyway near his apartment.

 

And the existence of that group chat consisting of his fans.

 

Today, though, is a very special day. It is the release date of his favourite writer’s newest release.

 

It has been almost two years since the last book, but Jungwoo never missed Huang Renjun’s books. This time he has safely pre ordered the book too. It arrived last night, but he hasn’t been able to open the book yet, he is going to read the book after today’s schedule.

 

The staffs at the studio are busy around their tables, like every morning. But there is something strange today, that no one answer his morning greeting, not even those kind script writers Jungwoo regards as his own blood sisters. Instead, they all stare at him, hard.

 

“What is wrong? Is there anything wrong?” Jungwoo asks.

 

Seulgi, Jungwoo’s manager, closes in and puts her hands on his shoulders. “Have you got your copy of the new book?” she asks, very serious. Jungwoo knows exactly which book she means, he nods. “Have you read that?” she now asks her main question.

 

“No,” he answers. Is there anything wrong with the new book?

 

Seulgi takes a book, the exact same book Jungwoo has in his backpack, from her desk and she puts it on his hand open. Jungwoo notices the whole room is staring at him again. Seulgi then tells him to read the page, the introduction, the prologue, slowly and carefully. Jungwoo proceeds as he is told.

 

On page five, the dedication page. Jungwoo finally finds what he is meant to find. He cries. And he bawls.

 

On the page, it reads,

 

This book is dedicated to 3 people

who coincidentally share the same initial.

One is a stranger,

but this proofs how

strangers too could sometimes

take a big portion in your life.

 

Thank you for your hard work.

Thank you for not giving up.

Today too, let's do our best.

-  Café Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay ><  
> life has been pretty busy (and I've been busy waiting for a dream comeback) lately


	5. Chapter 5

Jaemin was sixteen, he was in the basketball club, he scored straight As except in mathematics. He lived in a house downtown, not too far from city hall. His mother worked hard to pay his tuition and his grandmother took care of him while his mother was away around the world reporting for the international channel.

 

His grandmother was a member of the neighborhood mah-jong community, for some reason. And through this community he went on secretly on Saturdays was how Jaemin met Huang Renjun years ago when he was just five. Renjun was six, he had his birthday already when they first met. They soon became good friends.

 

Sadly, their grandmothers didn’t. They loathed each other for the mah-jong games.

 

Yet they were the worst players of the eighteen elderly in the community.

 

On elementary school days, Jaemin would rush home right after the school bell rung. When he arrived, there would always be a heated discussion between two grandmothers in the dining table, with mah-jong pieces scattered around. Then Jaemin would ask Renjun, that genius friend, to help him with his homework, whether he could actually do it alone or not.

 

Junior high school days were spent with him busy learning how to fix his late father’s old, analog cameras. Renjun was also busy doing literature club at his school. The daily hangout session was no more. Instead, they hung out around weekends only, sometimes while accompanying their grandmothers to the park for their taichi practices.

 

The mah-jong community has kicked out the two grandmothers after they bickered non-stop sometime around their seventh grade.

 

Jaemin was fourteen, Huang grandmother passed away. It was on the dawn Renjun was turning fifteen when his grandmother passed away. Renjun did not cry at the funeral service. Jaemin noticed that no one of Renjun’s family attended the service.

 

Jaemin put his arms around the narrow shoulder, his fourteen year old self did not know any proper consolation words to say but, “My grandmother will always be your

grandmother too.”

 

At the end of the service, when there were no one else left, Renjun cried out inside Jaemin’s grandmother’s arms.

 

Jaemin was sixteen, he was the rising star of the school, the basketball club aces, Jaehyun and Johnny, always stopped by on his class during breaks. But the thing the school didn’t know was that he was also best friend with the sharp-tongued librarian geek, Huang Renjun.

 

After agreeing to the proposal Jaemin pitched him, Renjun sternly warned him that they were not to interact at school. That, or they would not be attending the same high school at all.

 

Jaemin was forced to agree to that ridiculous condition.

 

Another thing the school did not know was that Jaemin loved photography.

 

This, he was not trying to hide it. But he just didn’t feel like talking about it. It was a secret that other than Renjun no one at the whole school knew about.

 

Jaemin was sixteen when Renjun knocked onto his door then slipped himself in. Jaemin rolled himself aside under the blanket to give the other space on his bed. Renjun sat down with a weird expression on his face. Dazed.

 

“What’s wrong?” Jaemin asked.

 

Renjun turned, there was fire inside his doe eyes. “I won the competition. They want to publish my work and they asked me for a profile and a picture,” Jaemin felt like there were fireworks popping around them, “I want you to take my picture, can you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this scene was something I've been picturing a lot ever since the idea first popped inside my head.  
> thanks for reading :)


End file.
